The Prisoner
by Netrophensis
Summary: Inspiration with us coming up to the finale of Thunderbirds Are Go series 1. The Hood keeps all of his best enemies in his secret base and uses them as a labour force on particular occasions. But there is one he has acquired that particularly entertains him... Rated K for mild violence


He sits in the dark, dank hole in the rock face that makes up his makeshift cell. Not even a proper jail for him. His captor has spared no expense in keeping him here. He grunted and holds the dressing on his shoulder, trying to get some reasonable comfort against the rock and looks up at the clock on the wall. Its been put there to remind him. Show him that time is moving on without him - and so are they. No. He won't believe that - he can't. He knows his boys will always need him. And he has to keep it at way. For his sanity.

There's a clang as the lock on the door is slid away. In a world obsessed with electronics, the best prison is one that uses more primitive methods to fool intruders. So simple it's hard to get past. One of the slaves comes in first. A man in a suit with a black box on his head. They place a tray on the floor and the prisoner starts eating. He has to. He's not going to get anything else. Even if it is possibly laced with some kind of truth serum.

Another figure joins them in the cave. This one comes along everytime and the prisoner will never forget his face for as long as he lives. Bald head, big eyebrows and...and those eyes. A piercing eagle like yellow. That's the difference between him and his niece, the prisoner reminds himself. Her's still hold some human warmth. The Hood looks at you, eyeing you over as if you're his prey. He's come to gloat. He always comes to gloat.

"Good morning. I trust you're enjoying my hospitality?" he sneers. The prisoner just keeps quiet and scowls at him. He pulls that joke everytime. "Not very talkative today, I see. It's just as well, I suppose. After a while your conversation rather starts to grate." The way his mouth moves when he says that. He's enjoying this. Then his eyebrow raises and his grin grows. An idea has formed in his head. "Or can it be you're finally beginning to get it. Perhaps you now realise that no one is coming for you. That you're all alone here." The prisoner's scowl deepens. He's not giving up that easily. "No? Then perhaps you need another reminder..." The Hood clicks and points in kne smooth motion. The box head comes closer and rolls up his sleeves.

He's another one who enjoys his job - in this case, far too much. He administers his...persuasions with something near to glee, only until his master orders him to stop. He wants to get it just right to get his message across. The prisoner just takes it, as usual. He knows he can't do anything to fight back. And the Hood won't let him be killed. He just swallows down any blood, and continues his fixed glare towards his captor.

"I think I've made my position very clear. Until the next time," With a final sneer, the Hood leads out, and the henchman follows swiftly with the food tray.

Then its just a small wait. It takes 5 minutes for the him to make sure he's finally and totally alone - they don't bother to leave a guard. They don't believe they can do them any harm. Which is true. He can't do anything to actually hurt them - which one part of him dearly regrets. But he can do something else. Now sure, the prisoner shifts a small boulder out of the way, and then pulls his own tray out of a hole in the wall. The tray is covered in different odds and ends, like wires and DIY circuits that he's picked up from the work the Hood forces his prisoners into.

A wire here, a machine there, a stolen moment to solder bits together with. It's taken a long time but the end is worth the risk. A few minutes a day, the prisoner switches on and transmits his hidden message...

*Sometime in the future*  
"Incoming message on subspace wavelength!" EOS's camera module races along its track, following around the ring of Thunderbird 5, until it reaches the Pilot's bed, her voice almost a squeak in the excitement.

"John! John, wake up! You need to see this!" The ginger haired man rolls out of his bunk, muttering about 3 o clock in the morning. But he gets the message - anything that gets his computerised companion this excited has to be something important. He picks up a bagel on the way and hurries up to the main command area. "What is it, EOS?"

A holographic panel opens up before him the size of a piece of paper for him to read. It doesn't take him very long and what he sees makes him loose his bagel, letting the half eaten baked good float in the air.

"Oh my god!"

 _'Calling International Rescue. Calling International Rescue. You have to help me. I'm being held prisoner in a secret base owned by a man known only as the Hood. You can trace this message to find my exact location._

 _P.S. My name is Jeff Tracy. Hello boys.'_


End file.
